


guess i gotta find a home

by mr_charles



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Female Friendship, Fix-It of Sorts, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Relationships, T rating for content but a lot of strong language within
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_charles/pseuds/mr_charles
Summary: the everyone lives AU starring disaster lesbian Robin Bauman, her quasi-absent dad, a couple of amazing secret keepers, Steve fuggin' Harrington, a new Russian uncle, and maybe the true meaning of friendship and family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> like comment and subscribe for more unnecessary ST AUs.

The good news is that Steve is a _fantastic_ secret keeper. He takes the ego hit with stride when people start whispering _is he dating Robin fucking Bauman_ _?_

well, gosh, they were trapped in Starcourt the night the fire broke out

jeez, they’re probably trauma bonded after what happened that night

they’re just like how Nancy—

it’s probably how Jonathan ended up with— 

Three weeks after everything happens, Robin casually slips into conversation that she’s going to Illinois is a week to spend a month with her dad.

“It’s this weird custody bullshit my parents have,” Robin explains, reorganizing the horror movies for the fourth time that day. “I get to spend the last month of summer with Murray. I hated it as a kid, because it was the only part of the year where I saw him. But I like it now that I’m older.”

Steve’s coif seems to bounce in confusion. “You didn’t see him for Christmas and stuff?”

Robin smiles, but the gesture doesn’t reach her eyes. “Murray doesn’t really do Christmas or anything like that. It’s _bougie_.”

“Oh. Hmm.”

“It’s really okay!” the warmth reaches Robin’s eyes now. “Now we watch a lot of old films together. Sometimes we find old military food packs and see how edible they still are!” A pause. “When I was 16, I ate M&Ms from _World War II_!” 

“Okay. But. How sick did you get?”

Robin flees to help the one customer in the video store before she can answer. 

It’s not that Robin _doesn’t_ love her dad; it’s just that he hasn’t really been around to be loved. He always preferred the search for The Truth rather than Marlene and Robin. He always made sure to bring Robin something home from his trips— Nona has made two quilts just from the various flags and t-shirts he’s brought Robin from all over the world. He just preferred…something else. 

Despite almost 20 years of separation, Murray and Marlene are still legally married. There is no hope for reconciliation but neither one is in the mood to head to City Hall and get the paperwork for the divorce. Plus Marlene has been dating Gerry, the only psychiatrist in Hawkins, since Robin was 11 years old. Robin likes Gerry. He wears itchy wool sweaters and thick, black glasses. He says things like “gee whiz” without a trace of irony. He put clinical bandaids on skinned knees and did his best to help Robin with her homework. She just…liked Murray more. Gerry has never played at being Robin's father, but is always there with a cup of lemon zest tea and a joke about making an exception to see a patient after hours if Robin has ever needed it. 

When Robin was 13, Murray spent the last day of their time together awkwardly fidgeting in the kitchen for longer than necessary. They had just watched _Double Indemnity_ , one of Murray’s guilty pleasure noirs, the night before and Robin enjoyed the film, delighting at Barbara Stanwyck’s funky bangs.

“Hey kiddo,” Murray starts, weirdly somber. Robin’s heart races, fearing the worst. “I just wanted to— no, that’s not right.” He groans loudly. Takes a loud gulp of his coffee. “What do you know about Barbara Stanwyck?”

Robin’s thoroughly confused now. “Wasn’t she in the movie we watched last night? Bangs?” she gestures vaguely at her own forehead. 

“Really,” Murray blurts, “her lesbianism was the worst kept secret in Old Hollywood, despite studio interference.”

Robin’s heart stops racing but drops instead. “L-lesb—“

Silence. More silence. She had really never heard that word said out loud and not attached to a string of slurs. But now Murray has said it. And he’s looking at her.

“Lesbian.” Robin whispers the word to herself. She looks at Murray and crinkles her brow. 

“Kiddo,” Murray sighs, rubbing his palm over his face. “You just. You listen to _a lot_ of Fleetwood Mac.”


	2. Chapter 2

Murray never tells anyone. They don’t really talk about it, until Robin starts high school and gets seated next to Tammy Thompson in Mrs. Lewis’ poetry class. Tammy is a bleeding heart, writing deep poems about her dog and her struggles with finding a decent hair color in saccharine gel pens on lined paper. 

She performs a song in the talent show that year about how she’s invisible and she thinks you’ll never notice her and love her for how she is. Robin can convince herself the song is written for her.

Even if Tammy never takes her fucking eyes off of Steve fucking Harrington the entire time. 

Hawkins High is a small school and she has almost every other class with Tammy and, unfortunately, Steve. She learns how Tammy’s black hair curls at the back of her neck when Mr. Ericsson refuses to turn the air on in study hall in August. She knows how Tammy likes to listen to old country, Patsy Cline and Hank Williams, on an old Walkman when she’s alone at lunch. She nods enthusiastically and encourages Tammy whenever she confides in Robin that she thinks she can truly make it in Nashville, like a mix of Dolly Parton and Siouxsie Sioux. 

And she also knows just how much Tammy makes a fool of herself for Steve. She’s not alone, Tammy isn’t, and Robin can’t help but curl her lip at the droves of girls who seem to fall at that dingus’ feet. He didn’t know that Tammy preferred to use her pink gel pen for math and her forest green one for science. He didn’t know that Tammy wrote lyrics in the margins of her textbooks. He didn’t even know Tammy’s name. He ate bagels and got crumbs all over himself and sleazed over Nancy fucking Wheeler. 

She might have found solace and friendship in the others who lost their crushes to Steve, but even she knows you don’t talk to Jonathan Byers, no matter how much he’s gaping over Nancy’s new summer dress. She’s sure Jonathan is a nice guy and everything, he’s just…he’s really fucking weird. He hid behind his camera more often than not and Robin wasn’t ever sure _what_ he did with all those photos of girls he took. She spent a semester sitting next to him in Geometry; every time he looked at her, she felt like he was a deer caught in headlights. He later admitted to another classmate that something about Robin terrified him. 

She gets paired with Steve and another girl, Polly, for a history report. Steve pulls her from a daydream about stabbing him in the hand with a letter opener and she gapes, mouth open as she stumbles for her words. Steve flashes a wink at her and Polly giggles sympathetically. As Steve leaves the library for the millionth time that hour, Polly leans over to Robin.

“I’d probably swallow my own tongue if Steve Harrington talked to me directly.”

Robin’s brows knit. “He asked you a question, like, an hour ago.”

Polly rolls her eyes, an alarming dark green that’s always unnerved Robin, “He thinks my name is Miranda.”

“Aren’t you going to correct him?”

Polly giggles again. “Oh, I’d be anyone Steve asked me to be!”

Two weeks later, when they give their presentation, Steve refers to Polly as “Miranda” no more than 5 times during their speeches. He only refers to Robin as “my research partner”. As Robin enthuses about the Hapsburg Empire, she catches Tammy’s eyes and smiles. Tammy smiles back, sitting up a little higher in her seat and pushing her hair back from her face. Robin shakes her shoulders out as she straightens up and manages to accidentally bump Steve.

He was standing directly behind her, smiling at Tammy. 

Robin manages to finish her speech and even answers a few questions on behalf of her team. They all score a B+ for their efforts.

“I really liked your presentation,” Tammy confesses to Robin in class a week later. “You really know a lot about the Hapsburgs!”

Robin flushes, now going tongue tied. “Yeah, it’s just, like, my dad is really into history and—”

“I always knew Steve was a worldly man,” Tammy interrupts, resting her chin on her hand, staring over Robin’s shoulder to look at the back of Steve’s head. “He looks like the kinda man who’d take a girl on a fancy trip to Europe. I’ll have to come back to him after I make it in Nashville.”


	3. Chapter 3

But then shit starts happening in Hawkins.

Will Byers somehow dies but comes back to life because the police are inept and can’t identify a scrawny kid found facedown in the quarry. Strange shit starts happening with the power in town and suddenly Nancy Wheeler is spending time at a shooting range and glued to Jonathan Byers’ hip. Curfews are enforced and even Marlene, who prided herself on being a sorta hands off parent, finds herself keeping Robin a little bit closer as things unfold in town. 

Parents are suddenly chaperoning kids to and from things and the school buses are finally packed with the kids who aren’t allowed to walk to school anymore. Band practices halt to a standstill as none of the Hawkins parents really want their kids out after dark. Even on Saturdays, when Robin would get up and spend the day wandering around town with friends, she finds herself more often than not in a ghost town. 

Admittedly, Robin’s heart swells slightly at the sight of a heartbroken Steve Harrington brooding on a bench one frosty morning. How do _you_ like knowing the girl you love doesn’t love you back, dingus? But even she has to scratch her head on how Prime Prissy Princess Nancy Wheeler ended up with that wrong side of the tracks kid Jonathan. She can at least admit Steve had some charm to him but concludes that maybe ol’ Jonnie Byers is just a beast in the sack. 

She doesn’t quite understand why Joyce Byers becomes the laughingstock of Hawkins, especially after her son is found alive. She knew Joyce casually, seeing as she seemed to be the only cashier at the store, regardless of when Robin was there. She sold Robin holiday cards and maxi pads; cheap snacks and cosmetics. Joyce oozed nothing but maternity, if just slightly off kilter. Joyce had a moderate tremor; she frequently dropped items while scanning them.

“It’s alright, Ms. Byers,” Robin had said cooly as Joyce fumbled with a tube of discount mascara, “it’s all goin’ in the backpack anyway!”

Joyce smiled. All of her smiles, as crooked and as shy as they were, were genuine. Robin liked that. 

She doesn’t see Murray much when he’s in Hawkins, which she understands as he’s working on Barb’s disappearance. Robin knew Barb briefly; they had PE together for three years in a row, but she couldn’t tell you a single thing about Barb. But suddenly everyone in Hawkins _had_ to know everything about Barb. Who did she socialize with, other than Nancy? Did she meet a boy the night she disappeared? Gossipy daughters told their gossipy moms that Barb was a _lesbian_ who ran off with a woman the night she vanished. That she was _in love_ with Nancy and killed herself in the woods after Princess Wheeler rejected her advances. 

“At this time,” Murray tells a _Hawkins Post_ reporter, “we have no evidence that Barbara Holland’s disappearance was motivated by romance or personal conflicts.”

Even Nancy held strong to her theory that _something_ happened to Barb, who was also her _best friend_ since _childhood_. 

Robin thinks briefly of how she would react if Tammy ever found out how she felt. She can say absolutely that Nancy and Barb were simply just best friends, but she can’t help but feel the pang of pity as she watches Tammy in the grocery store. She’d always loved that purple sweater on her, but god maybe the red leggings weren’t the best idea. Tammy belonged in Nashville, where the fashion was as bold as she was. Robin sighs longingly as Marlene weighs potatoes.

While Murray is in town, Marlene manages to get him to come over for dinner. Robin is admittedly nervous; she hasn’t seen her parents in the same room together since she was in elementary school. Marlene does her hair in its dated 1970s style, flat ironing her blond hair until it hangs down straight, and Gerry dons his best sweater & khakis combination for the night.

Gerry also fancies himself an amateur polyglot, which is how Robin has a loose grasp Spanish, French, and Italian. He greets Murray in broken Russian, causing Murray to hold his arms up victoriously and boom “ _comrade_!” 

Murray _adores_ Gerry. He compliments his sweater and shows genuine interest in his hobbies, suggesting they do go out fishing sometime and enthusing about vintage art. Gerry’s stamp collection is nothing like Murray’s collection of propaganda poster and pamphlets, but they both compare preservation techniques and the thrill of finding that perfect something. Murray applauds Marlene for such a stable catch, affectionately kissing the back of her freckled hand. Gerry takes Marlene’s other hand, kisses is just as gently, and tells Murray how much he cares about his little dove Marlie. 

Robin feels weirdly happy at the sight in front of her. She always knew she didn’t have a Mommy and a Daddy, but she has a mom and she has a dad. She also has a Gerry, who permits her one half glass of red wine to pair with the lamb he helped Marlene prepare for the night. Murray refills the glass when nobody is looking, winking mischievously at Robin, who giggles with red cheeks and good spirits. 


	4. Chapter 4

Marlene briefly considers moving out of Hawkins after Murray’s story breaks and how apparently Barbara Holland died of “chemical exposure”. Marlene makes coffee for her and Robin; they sit across from each other in the living room as Marlene’s delicate hands cradle her coffee mug. 

“I worry about you, Robbie,” Marlene started. “Joyce’s son vanished, Brenda Holland dies because of some _chemicals_? We shower, we drink the water here! Is it safe for us?”

Robin shrugs. She’s wearing her mom’s bathrobe, long wool sleeve pulled down over her palm so she can rest her warm mug on it. She had plans that afternoon, with _Tammy_ , and thinking of moving is the last thing Robin wants to do right now. 

“I’ll talk to your father,” Marlene says smoothly, unfolding herself from her chair and heading towards the kitchen. 

An hour later, Robin is breathless as she dashes to the front door.

“Hold it!” Gerry calls. “Robbie, what’s the rush?”

“Oh!” Robin pants. “Just, ya know…girl’s date. _Day_. Girl’s day with Tammy.”

Gerry looks at Robin over his copy of _Reader’s Digest._ “Where are you and Tammy going to get you all dolled up?”

Robin smooths her palms over her dress, something that had been hiding in her closet for years. She licks her lips and takes in the artificial flavor of the cherry lipgloss she had on. “J-just trying to—“

“Oh Ger,” Marlene teases, “let Robbie have her fun.”

Gerry rolls his eyes affectionately. “Just be home before too dark, Robbie!”

Robin gets to the coffee shop almost 20 minutes before she and Tammy agreed to meet. She tells the boy behind the counter that she’s just waiting for someone but she’ll order here in a bit and he shrugs and starts wiping down the table next to her. 

The clock strikes 11:00am, but no sign of Tammy. Robin sits facing the door and feels her heart leap every time a girl with dark hair walks past. 

11:15.

11:30.

11:45.

“Are you going to order or are you just going to sit there?” 

Robin looks at her watch. “Can i wait 15 more minutes?”

“Ten,” the boy behind the counter tells her. Robin nods at that. 

Finally, after one vanilla latte and over two hours of waiting, Robin accepts Tammy isn’t coming. She thanks the boy behind the counter and heads out into downtown Hawkins, sliding her sunglasses on and debating heading towards the arcade. 

Two blocks down, she hears Tammy calling for her. Her heart drops into her stomach, drops a little lower, and she has to stop herself from running into Tammy’s arms. 

“Tammy!” Robin breathes. “Wh-what’s up?”

Tammy is leaning against a storefront with Polly and a brunette Robin thinks is either named Chelsea or Brittany. 

“Oh, I know we were going to get coffee!” Tammy begins apologetically. “But then I met up with Polly and-“ a slamming door cuts off the other girl’s name “-and _look_ what we found!”

“It’s just Andy’s Gym?” Robin asks, following where Tammy points a manicured talon to the building across the street.

Tammy rolls her eyes. “Robin! _Look_!”

Robin glances and realizes that, if the sun hits the large windows just right, she can make out the blurry image of—

“Steve?!”

Tammy, Polly, and ChelseaBrittany titter. 

“You’ve been standing out here all morning watching Steve work out?”

Polly nods, flushed with excitement. “He’s _just_ now put a shirt on!”

Disgust and shame flood Robin’s body. Some of it leaks out; she puts her hands on her hips and lets out an “oh _god_ ”. 

Tammy misinterprets Robin’s body language and tone. “I _know_! God, he’s so—“ 

“ _Yummy_ ,” ChelseaBrittany purrs. 

“You wanna stay?” Tammy asks. “We can get burgers when he’s done!” A passing car horn drowns out the name, but Tammy finishes with “—was going to ask him if he wants to join us!”

“I..uh,” Robin pauses. “I told my mom I was only going to be gone a few hours and she needs help around the house. I’ll see you on Monday?”

Tammy and her gang have tuned Robin out. They see her off with a vague wave and Robin starts heading back home. 

Somewhere between the arcade and the post office, Robin ducks into the alley and seats herself on a closed trashcan. She wobbles slightly against the lid but it seems sturdy otherwise. She waits a moment to see if anyone passes by, but anyone who does doesn’t seem to notice her. 

Her tears are hot and fat, burning like acid down her cheeks and dripping onto her lap. She’s almost entirely silent as she cries, but her chest contracts and heaves like she’s running. The tears don’t stop for what seems like ages and finally Robin has nothing more to give. Her eyes are dry and raw and there’s splotches of wet on her dress. She almost falls as she pushes herself back onto the gravel but manages to keep her footing.

She takes her time walking home. The sun helps dry her dress and her eyes almost feel normal by the time she gets home. Neither Marlene’s nor Gerry’s cars are in the driveway when Robin gets home and she considers it a small miracle. 

In the shower, she keeps the water colder than she normally prefers. Her legs fail her almost instantly as soon as she’s in the tub, so she allows herself to collapse and let the water pour on her, lukewarm and uncomfortable. 

“Stupid,” she sobs to herself. Her tears alternate between rage and shame and soon she hears knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Did you fall in, Robbie?” Gerry calls over the roar of the shower. 

“J-jus,” Robin shouts back. “Jus’ shaving my legs, Ger! I’ll be out soon!”

She tells them she’s just going to lie down for a bit and they nod. Marlene says she’ll wake her up for dinner and smiles kindly.

They don’t wake her up for dinner. They let Robin sleep well into the next day.

“You musta needed it,” Gerry muses when Robin stumbles out of her room at noon the next day. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure it's at least a day drive from Hawkins to Murray's but this is fanfiction where everything's made up and the points don't matter.

“It’s because boys are dumb,” Robin says one night as she watches the news with Marlene and Gerry. 

Marlene smiles at that, rolling her pale eyes towards Gerry who shrugs and laughs. Winter formal was in a few days and Marlene had gently hinted if Robin had a date for the dance.

“I think me and the girls are going in a group,” Robin offered, wrapping herself tighter in her blanket shawl. Tammy had briefly mentioned getting a group together to go, sighing as she found out Steve was volunteering at the middle school dance. 

(“probably because _Nancy_ will be there,” Tammy had hissed.)

Shit continued to stay weird in Hawkins. Farmers suffered massive crop rots and the power still acted up more often than not. Gerry, puffing up his soft chest, invested in several flashlights, oil lamps, batteries, camp stoves, water by the gallons, and freeze dried food for them all. Robin, used to dried military food with Murray, felt her heart swell with so much care and affection for Gerry as he stumbled with a kerosene lamp one night. 

Robin eventually ended up handling the operation when they were stuck without power for 3 and a half days. The situation was not anything resembling “dire”, but it was definitely uncomfortable— Robin spent most of the time in her own bed, layered with a sleeping bag, and reading. But she guided Gerry though lighting the camp stove and, which they mostly used the flame to roast marshmallows and hot dogs over. The gallons of water stayed in the garage, as the soda and juice in the fridge were still a drinkable temperature. They did, however, really destroy two bags of potato chips around the morning of the second day of being without power. 

Now, a few weeks later, Gerry will still stand to attention, salute her, and call her “Sarge”. And as cheesy as it is, Robin falls into a fit of giggles every time he does it. 

“Sargent Bauman,” he had said seriously, “saving her troops during the war!” 

Through the rumor mill in school, Robin gathered that the Byers were still at the center of whatever had happened in the fall— the spores or chemicals or fucking whatever on the edge of town that killed Barbara Holland had reinfected Will Byers and made him seriously ill. At the first mention of “illness”, Marlene started insisting on broth and juice cleanses, reminding Robin that is what kept her safe during the Strep Throat Outbreak in fourth grade. However, after the third time she caught Robin drinking orange juice directly from the carton at 2am, she admitted that okay maybe the _whole_ cleanse was not necessary. 

Marlene did keep up the sage burning for another two weeks. Just as a precaution. 

Robin ends up at winter formal alone, which she figured. She wears one of Marlene’s old dresses and feels like a small town Stevie Nicks. The geriatric lunch lady at the punch bowl is generous with her servings and Robin essentially ends up on the gym bleachers alone, nursing a bowl of raspberry sherbet. Power ballads grate on her ears but given the weirdness of the last few weeks, it’s nice for Robin to feel like everything is…okay. The power doesn't flicker and parents have loosened their grip on their kids, as evidenced by a full gymnasium of students.

She feels a spark inside her chest, deep down, when Tammy walks in the gym. There’s a guy on her arm, but it isn’t Steve. Robin vaguely recognizes him as a freshman; he’s so small compared to Tammy but his hair is slicked back nice and he holds Tammy on his arm like a prize. She manages to find Polly and points her chin at Tammy.

“Who’s the baby?”

Polly laughs, a whipcrack in the gymnasium. “He’s some freshman transfer, man. From N-A-S-H-V-I-L-L-E. He said all kinda bullshit to Tammy about knowing, like, Willie Nelson and now she’s convinced he’ll take her back to Nashville for Christmas break.”

“What do you think?” Robin probes, feeling strangely like her father. 

Polly smacks her lips around her drink, which has left with her a pink punch mustache that oddly matches her lipgloss. “I think he’s _14_ and somehow managed to get a date with _Tammy Thompson_ so he’s going to say whatever the fuck it takes to keep her from running back into The Hair’s arms.”

“Isn’t Steve volunteering at the Snow Ball at the middle school?”

Polly laughs again. “He’s like best friends with that Henderson kid now— the one with all the hair?”

Robin pauses. “Really?”

“Shyeah. Apparently Steve’s on this, like, fuckin’ self-help bullshit since Nancy dumped him. Like he’s running with those fuckin’ nerds— Henderson and those kids who pretend to be dragons in the parks? At first, Tammy and I thought he was just babysittin’ but then Emma in French told us that he’s, like, taking all this love he had for Nancy and channeling it into helping the kids of today.”

“That’s…” words fail Robin, probably for the first time in her life. “Huh.”

When Robin stays at Murray’s for the holidays, he’s a little testy the first day or two. Nothing bad, he never snaps at Robin. But he holds himself like he’s got a secret and freaks when Robin startles him.

“Murray,” Robin says eventually. “What the hell is going on?”

There are holes in Murray’s story, which Robin accepts, given the nature of his work. He tells Robin he was helped immensely during his investigation by two up and coming investigators that he thinks are really going places in the world.

“Okay?” Robin asks. “And?”

“It was Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers,” Murray spits out so quickly that it takes Robin a minute to understand what he had said.

“ _What?!_ ”

“I really think you and Nancy would get along,” Murray muses. “There’s something inside her. This—”

“Utter bitch?”

“Hey! Language!”

Robin raises an eyebrow. Murray pauses.

“ _Regardless_ , they were both vital to my investigation into the Holland mystery. And, in our time together, I became rather…fond of them both and—”

“They’re coming over for dinner, aren’t they?”

“Next Wednesday,” Murray says without hesitation. “I’m making a pot roast.”

Robin stares at her dad.

“You will be assisting me as I make a pot roast.”

A beat.

“Will you please make a pot roast for when Jonathan and Nancy come over for dinner next week?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also I'm a college educated adult who forgot how to spell "Nashville" three times while writing this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a little heavier.
> 
> tw; homophobia, homophobic violence (mentioned)

An hour before dinner, Murray sits Robin down nicely on the old couch in the living room.

“Kiddo,” he says sweetly. “I’m going to need you to go into the bathroom and wipe that fuckin’ look off your face before Nancy and Jonathan get here.”

“What look?”

“You’ve been sneering since you put the roast in the oven. I know you don’t like them but I do so you need to behave, mmkay?”

“Five minutes?” Robin asks.

“Five minutes,” Murray nods.

When Robin was a little girl, she would get overwhelmed when Murray took her to journalism parties. She was precocious and could use big words, which entertained photographers and bigwigs, but she got over-stimulated easily. At a Christmas gala when she was six, she almost had a meltdown during dinner. Marlene had tried to emphasize that this was very important, sweetie, so please calm down, but Murray grabbed her small and sweaty hand and led her to the ladies’ room.

“Five minutes,” he said, tapping his wristwatch. 

“Five minutes,” Robin had agreed, voice watery. She sat in a stall by herself, keeping herself occupied by swinging her feet back and forth as she sat on the closed toilet. Nobody came in so Robin had a large, cool space to herself. She washed her hands with cold water as Murray shouted “ready, kiddo?” from outside the door. 

She was fine for the rest of the night.

45 minutes and a lot of scrubbing cold water on her face later, Robin is all smiles as the doorbell rings.

“Thank you,” Murray says kindly, kissing her temple on his way to get the door. 

Murray gives both Jonathan and Nancy bear hugs, which Nancy returns with as much gusto. _Gusto_ is not a word that Robin would use to describe Jonathan Byers. 

“We couldn’t show up empty handed,” Jonathan explains, holding a bouquet of sunflowers from the grocery store. “And we can’t buy wine.”

“Psh!” Murray waves. “Robbie, can you put these in water, please?”

A strange look flashes over Nancy’s face as Robin comes out of the kitchen.  “Robin…Bauman,” she says with a revelation. “I-I never made the connection!” Her confusion is honest with a hint of delight laced into it. Jonathan’s jaw drops as it hits him as well. 

“Surprise!” Robin laughs. “Murray’s m’dad!”

An awkward silence settles once the laughter dies down.

“Pot roast?” Robin offers, pointing at the kitchen. 

The conversation flows smoothly for all four of them during dinner. Nancy and Jonathan skirt around what’s been happening in Hawkins but Robin gets a giggle or two as she talks about what happened at winter formal.

“Because Leonard Winter- Winters?- Leonard Whiter, yeah!” Nancy enthuses, pointing at Robin, “yeah, some dorky freshman named Leonard somehow managed to get a date with Tammy Thompson.”

“Who’s Tammy?” Murray asks. “Do we like Tammy? Do we _love_ Tammy?”

Robin flushes and feels her body run cold. “Tammy’s pretty cool,” Robin says in what she hopes is a nonchalant tone. “A little meh sometimes.”

“Definitely meh,” Nancy agrees. “She sings like a _Muppet_.”

“She does not!” Robin argues. 

They both look at Jonathan, silently asking him to pick a side.

“I…have never heard Tammy sing,” is all he says.

“Smart kid,” Murray mutters. 

“Polly told me Leonard’s from Nashville, apparently,” Robin rolls her eyes. Nancy mirrors the gesture. They both pull their shoulders in when they gossip, hands flat on the dining table. 

“Oh, _Nashville_ ,” Nancy says sardonically. “I wonder what’s in _Naaaaashville_.”

_you shut up, Nancy,_ Robin thinks aggressively. _Tammy is twice the woman you’ll ever be. at least she fuckin’ knows who she is._

Instead she laughs, a fake and airy thing that manages to pass for natural sounding.

Dessert is when things get awkward. Nancy and Murray talk business, Nancy having done her homework on publications that could take his Hawkins exposé. This means Jonathan and Robin are stuck together in the living room with their plates of cake. Robin debates putting a record on but that would require asking what Jonathan wants to listen to and she doesn’t care enough to do so. 

“So,” Jonathan starts stiffly, rubbing his palms on his khakis. “How’s…uh…”

Robin laughs. “Well we go to the same school so I think you know exactly how school is going.”

“You got me there,” Jonathan admits. 

Silence. It’s not awful, just a little tense. The silence of two near strangers in close proximity. Robin is content to pick at her nails or pick at her cake, a weird sense of jealousy filling her stomach as she hears Nancy and Murray laugh from the dining room. 

“They’re _really_ getting along,” Robin snarks.

The sarcasm misses Jonathan, who smiles. “They were really passionate about the article! Nancy worked so hard on that.”

“And you?”

“I just—” Jonathan gestures. “—take the pictures.”

_yeah we all fuckin’ know what pictures you take, Peeping Tomathan Byers_

“Nancy is the brains behind it all,” Jonathan goes on. “She has a spine made of steel. It’s amazing. I never would have…” he trails off, unsure of continuing. 

“Me either,” Robin admits. “I know she’s packin’— she shoots firsts and asks questions later, doesn’t she?”

Jonathan flushes with delight at that. “She, uh, yeah. She’s not one to sorta skirt around the issues.”

“She just takes care of the issues in a skirt,” Robin jabs. “Because this whole thing is how you two sorta came together, right?”

Jonathan’s delighted flush flashes into an uncomfortable crimson at Robin’s phrase. It clicks. 

“Ohoho,” Robin chortles deeply. “You guys _did it_ for the mission!”

Jonathan looks back at the dining room quickly, but nobody seems to have heard Robin. “Can you just keep it down?”

Robin is laughing now, clapping her hands and rolling back into her seat. “You guys did _sex_!”

“Hey!” Murray shouts. “What’s so funny in there?”

“Oh _god_ ,” Robin’s eyes are watering. “Nothing! Long story!”

Jonathan looks like a frightened rabbit as Robin brings herself back down. 

“Oh gosh,” she sighs. “Okay and we’re done.”

“Can you not, like, tell anyone?” Jonathan asks quietly. 

“You’re dating!”

Jonathan rolls his eyes, a gesture Robin finds oddly hostile. “Yeah…but…”

“I gotcha,” Robin promises, affectionately slapping Jonathan’s knee.

After they leave, Robin helps Murray with dishes. They work in silence; Murray is a little drained after talking business with Nancy most of the night. Robin is eyeing the rest of the cake on the kitchen table as Murray soaks a casserole dish. 

“So,” Murray starts.

“So,” Robin mirrors.

“About dinner.”

“I thought I was fine!” Robin puts her defenses up. 

“You were fine, kiddo,” Murray says quietly. “But you got a little sketchy when Nancy brought up Tammy.”

“I did not!” The defenses are up.

“Robin.” The tone scares Murray. He puts a damp hand on her shoulder. “I know, okay? I know. And I don’t like that I have to say it, but you need to…hide it.”

“Dad?”

“If the wrong person,” Murray starts but shakes his head. “You could get hurt.”

“Nobody knows, Dad,” Robin is on the verge of tears. “Mom and Gerry don’t even know.”

Murray’s eyes are wet when he looks at her. “You cannot tell anybody this, not while you're in Hawkins. You could get hurt. You could get attacked. Robin, I don’t need to tell you this but you could be _killed_ if the wrong person finds out.”

“Sh-should I get a boyfriend, dad? Fake it til I make it?”

Murray rubs his face. “D-don’t do that, kiddo. Don’t hurt someone like that. Just…”

Robin sobs. They’ve never talked about it at length. Robin was running out of excuses on why she wasn’t dating. Boys were dumb, Hawkins boys were gross, she was debating a convent. Her lack of popularity worked for her— she was a third year drama student and had done band since 7th grade, boys weren’t exactly knocking at her door— but soon, there would be questions and she would not have answers. 

“Someday,” Murray whispers as he holds his daughter. “Someday, someone will love you and care about you.”

A pause.

“And hopefully she looks like Lynda Carter.”


	7. Chapter 7

“You’re hired,” is all the dark haired bubblegum snapper says over the cheap wooden desk between them. She barely glances as Robin’s resume.

“What?”

“Welcome to Scoops Ahoy,” she says mechanically. “Go find a uniform that fits you in that box over there. You start Wednesday.”

“Will I be training with you?” Robin asks politely as she pokes through a cardboard box of polyester sailor uniforms.

The dark haired girl checks off a few boxes, chewing bubblegum wildly. “You will until Thursday. We have another new hire, he starts Friday. You’ll train him after that.”

Robin pauses. “Can I really learn everything in three days?”

The other girl chuckles, signing paperwork with a flourish. “You’re smart, Robin. I sat behind you in trig.”

Robin nods to herself at that; she and Heather had run in vastly different social circles but she was wiling to accept when Heather had surreptitiously looked over Robin’s hunched shoulders for answers during an exam or two. Or four. 

“What happens after Friday?” Robin asks as she holds a uniform against her body.  
“I got a job at the Hawkins Pool,” Heather says proudly. 

“Oh yeah?” Robin asks earnestly. 

Heather stops snapping her gum. “Daddy finally got that job at the _Post_ but he cut my allowance. The pool pays an extra buck an hour and Daddy says I can keep half my paycheck in lieu of an allowance.”

“What made you want to be a lifeguard?” Robin asks as Heather slides her a clipboard full of paperwork.

“I don’t want to be a lifeguard,” Heather says plainly. “I hate kids. And ugh, I’m gonna see, like, everyone in Hawkins in their fuckin’ swimsuits, so that’s less than ideal. But _Billy Hargrove_ interviewed me. Do you remember him? Graduated this year?”

Every girl at Hawkins High knew Billy Hargrove, even Robin. Had boys even been her type, even Billy would have made her snap her sharp knees together. She had watched as Tammy swooned for him, teasing her jet black hair up high and slathering on layers of black eyeliner to try and catch his eye. 

And she did, if even for a night, only to cry on Robin’s shoulder the following Monday that Billy hadn’t even answered the phone when she called him Sunday morning, lamenting that some bitch named Max answered when she called and even hung up on her. Robin, unsure of how to proceed to comfort her, rubbed Tammy’s heaving shoulders while repeating that Billy was a dick who didn’t deserve her. And Tammy had wrapped quivering arms around Robin’s neck and, for a moment, Robin was happy.

Billy had tried to turn that coiffed and cologne drenched charm on Robin during 5th period French. They were working on questions and format, when Billy had turned to Robin, toying with a pencil against his lower lip. 

“Voulez-vous…” he had started, pretending to flip through his textbook, either unaware or unbothered by the fact he was still on the chapter on animals, “coucher avec moi?”

The girl sitting next to Robin, a plain girl named Brenda, flushed red to the tips of her ears, shooting a _can you believe this?_ glance at Robin. 

“ _Non_.” was all Robin had said in retaliation. Annoyance and disgust bubbled under her skin but Billy had winked on her and repeated the question to Brenda, who squeaked out an incomprehensible response which was apparently what Billy wanted to hear. He tried his charms on Robin twice more (flexing in gym class, September; offering her a ride after band practice, November) before shrugging his greasy shoulders and moving on. 

Back at Scoops Ahoy, training with Heather was a disaster. Heather had already checked out mentally so Robin was frequently left to her own devices and a training manual last updated in June 1981 and a cash register that frequently malfunctioned. 

Thank God for mental math. 

Robin knew Heather was used to a different class of life, with her father owning _Holloway Hobbies_ before Starcourt sent it out of business. Heather was a princess in Hawkins, even more so than Nancy, and even Robin found herself handling Heather delicately, as if the girl was made of porcelain or beautiful glass. 

_Everything_ about Heather made Robin feel out of proportion and clumsy. Heather was manicured and in place, Robin had reminders to call people scribbled on her hands and dirty Converse. Heather managed to make her uniform look couture and well-fitting while Robin’s rode up in awkward places and a maraschino cherry stain never washed out of the left leg of it. 

But, as the training went on, Robin found she enjoyed Heather. Heather was foul-mouthed and inappropriate, scowling out profanities and spitting into sundaes. She closed early and opened late and, if anything, ran Scoops with only three active brain cells. Robin, thankfully, takes to the job quickly, allowing Heather to be even more hands off. 

Robin honestly didn’t mind. Heather would frequently eat product without ringing herself out for it, which meant Robin got training on the various concoctions that Heather enjoyed. Heather was great for conversation, prattling endlessly about whatever thought popped into her head. 

Robin frequently felt like an outsider with other girls, especially girls like Heather, but she never made Robin feel…weird. She talked and gossiped like she and Robin had always been stuck together for 6 hours a day and quickly caught on to Robin’s idiosyncrasies and likes, winking playfully as she stashed an uncharged pint of Minty-Mint Chippy-Chip in Robin’s bag for her as they closed out on the second night of training. 

What Robin will never admit is the crush she’d low-key had on Heather since 8th grade (swim lessons, fourth period gym class, “Robin, put your hands on Heather’s waist as she demonstrates, please!”) but even that takes the backseat as she focuses on procedures and trainings. Heather grinned pretty and treated Robin like an equal, even as Robin stumbled through her first solo scooping. 

So when they close together on Heather’s last night, Robin smiles with delight as Heather throws her arms around Robin’s shoulders to pull her close.

“I’m gonna miss you!” she gushes earnestly. “You’ll _have_ to come by the pool sometimes so we can hang out! Wait, where’s that pen?” She scribbles her number onto the back of Robin’s hand, big feminine loops on every digit. 

“Who starts tomorrow?” Robin asks as she and Heather walk out of the nearly empty mall. 

“Shit, what’s his name?” Heather snaps as she thinks. “Steeeee…shit!”

“Steve Harrington?”

“Yes!” Heather says loudly. “Steve Harrington! His dad made a few calls so apparently he works at Scoops now. What a fuckin’ lame-o.”

“Seriously?” Robin says incredulously. 

Heather misinterprets Robin’s annoyance. “Yeah, apparently he’s taking a gap year before going to college or some bullshit. Here, I’ll give you a lift home. Daddy let me borrow the second car.”

Robin almost pouts the whole way home. This is going to _suck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was drunk when writing part of this so let me know if it's obvious which parts of this are soaked in rum. 
> 
> also i was fortunate enough to participate in francesca reale's ama so some of heather's characterization comes from her answers during that.


	8. Chapter 8

The first two weeks with Steve are an absolute disaster. He stumbles like he’s still 12 years old with hands and feet that can’t seem to ever work and corporate has to replace his uniform after he spills strawberry sauce all over himself while trying to impress a girl by opening it without paying attention. 

They get off on the wrong foot, which is entirely Robin’s doing.

“We’re coworkers,” she tells him brusquely one evening as he asks how school is going for her. “We’re not friends.”

He shrinks visibly at that and Robin almost smirks with pride. She didn’t speak to him any more than she absolutely had to, and even then she lets him flounder one more than one occasional instead of stepping in to assist. 

At the start of their third week together, that bites Robin in the ass. 

She was in the back, claiming to be doing inventory when she was actually just listening to music with her headphones as loud as she could tolerate them.

“Robin!” Steve had shouted. “Could use a little help out here!”

“Busy!” Robin had shouted back. “Sorry!”

Two hours later, Robin finds herself in a disciplinary meeting with the head manager. Becky split her time between Orange Julius and Scoops Ahoy, but spent most of her time at Orange Julius. Robin only saw her once or twice a week or when deliveries came. But Becky had decided to drop into Scoops to see how the new hires were doing, only to find a line that was basically out the door and Robin in the back with her feet up, headphones on, and eyes closed. 

“I’m very disappointed in you, Robin,” Becky had started. “This is not Scoops attitude. If I would have known that this is how you would treat your coworkers, I never would have authorized Heather to hire you.”

Embarrassment flushed deep in Robin’s body.

“Well?” Becky had gestured. “What do you have to say for yourself, Robin?”

“I am…” Robin exhaled, trying not to cry. “So fucking sorry.”

Becky pursed her lips and tapped her pen against her clipboard. “If this happens again, Robin, we will fire you. Summer is coming and I can’t have you leaving your coworkers to fend for yourself while you pretend to do your job. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Robin said, sounding like a little girl to her own ears. Becky signed off on her paperwork, had Robin initial saying she understood what the meeting was about, and then nodded in reluctant agreement when Becky said she was giving Steve the weekend off as an apology. 

“Hope you like doubles,” was all Becky said as she closed the door behind her. 

Robin doesn’t expect the gentleness that comes from Steve when she heads back out to behind the counter. The line had died down and only a few stragglers were looking at the menu board behind them.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“‘m fine,” Robin nods. “’s just a meeting.”

“I-I heard her,” Steve gestures to the window divider behind them. “She didn’t have to be that rude to you.”

“Wh—” Steve cuts her off with a finger as he turns back to the customers who are ready to order. They tip generously, stuffing a few bills into the overflowing tip jar and Steve salutes them on their way out. 

“I-I get it,” Steve says when the hubbub finally dies down. “I’m not very good at my job. And you needed a break and honestly the rush was kinda fun but.” He pauses. “I’m not mad at you.”

Robin was not expecting that. She was expecting fury and immaturity and Steve throwing the tip jar at the wall as he stormed out of the shop. 

“And I’ll definitely take my days off,” Steve smiles, “but my number is in the employee book in case you really need anything.”

At the end of the night, he still tries to split the tips with her. But Robin only takes a small handful off bills and loose change before telling him to keep the rest of it.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks earnestly. “I don’t—”

“I know,” Robin says, “but you deserve it.”

“I’d never thought I’d say this,” Robin says dramatically on Monday afternoon, “but Steve Harrington, I am glad to see your face.”

Things change after that, but in a good way. They aren’t friends, as much as Steve tries, but they are friendly. They fall into an easy work routine after finding out Robin’s upper body strength is more suitable for unloading deliveries and Steve could sell ice cream by the pint to anyone who walked in the store. 

“How can you even lift all that?” Steve asks incredulously as Robin hefted an insulated box full of ice cream.

“Band,” Robin grunts as she backs out of the room, “and theater.”

“Dorky shit made you into the Hulk?”

Robin laughs, a genuine noise. “After competitions and stuff, kids don’t wanna carry their bassoons and tubas back to the bus. Jus’ easier if I do it. Now it’s kinda my job.” She pauses, thinks. “I once carried an entire xylophone down the length of the football field!”

Steve joins her in laughter, helping her unload the tubs out of the box. “I never would have thought band was good for developing muscle mass.” 

“We all can’t be athletic superstars like King Steve!” Robin teases.

Steve falls a little after that. His…downfall at Hawkins High was legendary but Robin didn’t mean to strike the nerve.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I wasn’t—”

Steve waves it away. “You’re good. I’m just being a baby.”

“Baby feelings are still feelings,” she offers. “We don’t deny babies things because they’re babies.”

“Thank you.” There’s something in Steve’s voice that makes Robin think that’s the first time anyone has ever acknowledged his emotions in a way that wasn’t meant to hurt him. 

“Anytime,” Robin says. 


End file.
